


Way Down We Go

by xanavici



Series: Dead Man Walking [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post Explosion, Pre Canon, Supernatural Elements, mild depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-01-20 00:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanavici/pseuds/xanavici
Summary: Overwatch gone.  Friends gone.  Arm gone.  All Jesse has left is his gun, his whiskey, and his shadow of Death.  But maybe that's enough.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Thanks for waiting so patiently for this next part of this series. Good news is I've learned from my mistakes and so this fic is already 90% done so hopefully you won't have to wait too long between chapters. Anyways, enjoy!

It's been 72 hours since the Swiss Overwatch HQ went up in flames.  It's been 62 hours since Strike-Commander Jack Morrison and Commander Gabriel Reyes were declared MIA- presumed dead.  It's been 53 hours since officials declared the explosion was set off by a rogue faction of Blackwatch, led by Commander Reyes.  It's been 48 hours since the last time Jesse McCree was sober.  In his youth, Jesse would have been proud, ecstatic to be drunk for this long.  Now, all he feels is heartbreak, betrayal, and pain.  He just wants to forget.  

The bartender tried to cut him off 4 hours ago, but Jesse just growled, gave him a hard glare that may or may not have been his Deadeye lining up the kill shot, and demanded another bottle of tequila.  The bartender stopped trying to cut him off after that and instead opted to hover at the other end of the bar by the phone, 9-1-1 already punched in.  

They're gone.  All of them are dead and Jesse will never see them again.  How can they be dead?  Jack was the golden boy, flawed and imperfect but still a good man with a big heart and an iron will.  He was too stubborn to die.  And Gabe.  Gabe was caring and fiercely protective.  He was too smart and cunning to get blown up like that.  He knew the real rules of life and how to play the game that almost everyone else couldn't see.  How could anyone with half a brain believe that he blew up the very organization he helped create?  They can’t be gone. They can’t.

But they are.  Just like Ana the only time Jesse’s ever going to see them again is in memorials and memories.  Everyone leaves Jesse behind and he needs to start accepting that.  Those three are dead, Reinhart was forced out, Fareeha left to protect her country, Genji left to travel the world, and Angela left to go help others.  Though, Jesse can’t really blame them.  He left too.  When to going got tough, he got going and didn’t look back.

“Wow, that really blows, don’t it?  Excuse that terrible pun.”  A stranger slides into the barstool next to Jesse and startles him out of his downward spiral of misery.

_ Come on cowboy, you know better.  Always be aware of your surroundings.  _ Gabe’s voice echoes in his head.  

Shut up shut up shut up!

“Those were some good people working there, even if the whole thing was falling apart there at the end.  A real shame those two head honchos couldn’t get along and let politics get in the way of everything,” the stranger continues.  Jesse, even in his inebriated state, unconsciously starts checking for threats.  No obvious weapons, medium build, not very muscular, probably doesn’t even know how to throw a punch.  Low threat level.

“The best people,” Jesse grumbles after he finishes his assessment.

“My sister has a friend who worked there.  Luckily that friend is on vacation so she was nowhere near Switzerland.  Did you know anybody there?”

“The best people I ever knew,” Jesse says before tipping back another shot.  The tequila doesn’t even burn anymore, it just tastes sour.

“I’m sorry man.  But that makes it sound like you worked for them or something.”

“Or something…”

“Seriously dude!  That’s amazing!  What was it really like?  I mean, I’ve seen the recruitment ads but those are nothing like real life.”

“It was…,”  _ the best thing that’s ever happened to you, like the home you never had, like the family you never had _ , “...amazing.”

“Wow, that’s awesome.  If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you leave?”

Jesse’s eyes automatically dart to the metal hardware sticking out from under his serape before he can stop them.  He stares in disgust at the prosthetic before tearing his gaze away and back to the shot glass in front of him.  He pours one more shot and knocks it back before standing up.

“I do mind.  Excuse me,” Jesse says as he throws some bills on the counter and walks away.  He stumbles and almost falls, testament to how drunk he is, but manages to catch himself on the door frame and stay upright.

Outside, the sun is setting and painting the shit hole of a town, whose name Jesse’s already forgotten, in tones of oranges and reds.  It reminds him too much of Deadeye.  He's experienced enough death for now.  He pulls his hat down low and heads for the motel he has a room at.  

As he walks his sorrow morphs into white hot anger.  He still has one ‘friend’ in this life, and this is all their fault.  Jesse adjusts his course and heads for the outskirts of town. The sun has set and the full moon illuminates the desert by the time he stops walking.  He stands in the middle of an old crossroads that hasn't been used for a long time.  Asphalt is cracked and barely visible under sand, and the metal guide signs are rusted and unreadable.  

“Come out here you piece of shit!” Jesse yells into the night.  “I've done enough for you over the years that you owe me this!”

A coyote howls in the distance but otherwise everything is still.  Jesse throws an alcohol fueled temper tantrum, complete with yelling and kicking until he’s out of breath and the exhaustion of the last few days catches up to him.  He sits down on the road and wishes he had taken the bottle of tequila with him when he left the bar.

The energy in the air changes and the nightlife goes completely silent.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he says as he heaves himself up.

“You know, crossroads aren’t really my thing.  If you want to meet all you have to do is ask, nicely,” Death says.  They look the same as always, though this time they wear a slightly peeved expression.

“You son of a bitch.  You knew this was gonna happen, didn’t ya?”

“If you're referring to the explosion in Switzerland, no I did not.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yes I do, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.  I cannot see the future.  I can only see people’s personal timelines.  I never looked at your friends’ because I never had a reason to.”

“Really?  Two of the greatest men in the world weren’t important enough?  Weren’t worth yer time?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Well that’s what you meant!”

Death sighs.  “Jesse Emmanuel McCree, I know you’re hurting but I meant no disrespect.  And I’m sorry I cannot help ease-”

Jesse interrupts.  “Bring them back!”

“What?”

“Ya wanna help?  Bring them back!  You brought me back so I know you can do it.”

Death looks stunned for a second at at Jesse’s outburst.  “I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“Bullshit!”

“I can't.  They are outside of my reach.”

“And what the hell does that mean you overrated, emo, asshat?”

Anger flashes over Death’s face.  No one has ever talked to him with such disrespect.  “It means exactly that.  They are outside my domain and so I cannot touch them.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense.  Just bring them back!” Jesse’s angry yelling turns into angry crying.  The floodgates he was trying to keep shut burst open.  “‘Cuz i can’t lose them.  I can’t lose the only people in the world who ever gave a damn about me.”  Jesse sinks down to the ground again as his body is wracked with sobs.

For the first time since they met, Death reaches out hesitantly and places a hand on Jesse’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“I shouldn’t of left ‘em.  I should’a stayed,” Jesse says between haggard breaths.  “But no, I let Gabe and Jack’s petty civil war get to me.  I let it distract me from my only job of havin’ Gabe’s back.  I let it distract me and I got my arm blown off.  Couldn’t do my job no more, couldn’t do anything no more.”

“Jes-”

“I was a fuckin’ coward and I left and I abandoned them!  I left Gabe’s back wide open and now he’s gone!”

“This is not your fault, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.  You couldn’t have stopped it and if you stayed you would be dead.”

“Yea but I would be with ‘em.  I would still be with my family.”

Jesse cries until his tears run dry and every muscle in his body hurts.  Death stays with him the whole time.  He has a headache and he can’t tell if that’s from his breakdown or a sign of the encroaching hangover.   Jesse’s exhausted and feels empty when he calms down.  Going to sleep seems like a great idea now.

“Stand up, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.  You should get back to wherever you’re staying before you pass out.”

“Nooo,” Jesse says from where he has laid down.

“I will not carry you.”

“Don’t wanna move.”

Everything is silent for a couple minutes.  Then Jesse feels a cold arm slide under his own and hoist him up until he’s standing.

“I do not know why I put up with you, you insufferable human.”

“It’s a gift,” he slurs.

Death half walks, half carries him back into town.  They reach the motel and Death opens the door with a wave.  Jesse’s dumped unceremoniously on the bed and he promptly passes out.  The last thing he sees is Death looking down at him with a concerned look on their face.

* * *

Jesse wakes up the next morning with the hangover from hell.  The last few days are a blur and all he knows right now is pain and nausea.  Jesse falls back asleep, not wanting to deal with the world quite yet.  

He wakes up a few hours later feeling marginally better.  He drags himself into the shower and wash the sweat and dust off.  Afterwards he downs a couple glasses of water and pops some aspirin he finds in a first aid kit.  He lays down on the bed, ready to go back to sleep again but stops when he sees a note on the bedside table.  It’s not signed but Jesse already knows who it’s from.

_ If you do not want to be a coward anymore, honor you friends.  Carry on their work.  Justice will not dispense itself. _


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse hears his phone ring and sighs.  He knows he shouldn’t, that chime means a new bounty’s been posted which means he gets a chance to get out of Utah, maybe the US for a little while if it’s big enough.  It means surviving another day.

But he's so tired.

Tired of pretending his heart didn't get ripped out when that explosion happened, tired of trying to do the right thing but getting blamed for the wrong thing, tired of this metal arm that weighs him down and throws off his balance and locks up when sand gets in the joins which happens far too often out here in the desert.

He wishes he could be Lena right now.  Just go back in time to where it all started to go downhill and stop it before it gained momentum.  But that's easier said than done because he's not really sure when his life started to go downhill.  There's a million different moments he could choose from, or it could just be that drew a bad hand right from the start.

Jesse shakes his head to get rid of the maudlin thoughts and takes another pull of whiskey straight from the bottle.  That's the nice thing about drinking alone in your shitty safe hose, you can drink as much whiskey as you want just like this and no one will try to cut you off.

After a moment of deliberation he grabs the phone off of the crate that serves as a night stand, nearly dropping it before getting it oriented in the right direction to read the newest bounty.  The numbers and letters swim on the screen for a moment before he forces his eyes to cooperate.  The text orders itself into something he can read and he gets to work.

Three new bounties.  He declined the first one, on account of it being his own, and the second one for some character named The Shrike, he doesn't have the funds to travel all the way to Egypt.  The last one is promising.  Wanted for two murders, last seen in Phoenix, Arizona, wanted dead or alive.

Jesse better head out in the morning if he want’s to collect this bounty before anyone else can snatch it up.  He considers checking over all his gear but decides not to; that's something he definitely needs to be sober to do.  Instead he peels off his clothes and climbs in the shower.  It's perilous, with all the liquor in his veins, but he’s gotten plenty of experience doing this over the past year or so.  And it's easier than doing it with a massive hangover.

After, he downs a bottle of water and falls down onto the moth eaten cushions and sleeping bag that pass for his bed and tries to fall asleep before the hangover hits, but his mind won't stop running.  A little thought bounces in the back of his mind and refuses to disappear until Jesse acknowledges it.  With a groan, he gets back out of bed and digs around in one of his duffle bags.  He comes up with with his old Blackwatch comm and it's battery that he usually keeps out to be safe.  He pops the battery back in and hesitates for a second before turning the unit on. It goes through its startup process before settling on the home screen.  Jesse stares at it for a couple minutes then sighs.  This is what drunken nostalgia gets him, a bad trip down memory lane and a massive disappointment.  

Jesse goes to turn the comm off, but right before he does it chimes with a new message.  

_ New Message [0243 hours] _

_ From: Agent 361- Shimada, G _

_ I hope wherever you are, brother, you are well.  Stay safe. _

_ [multimedia attachment] _

Jesse taps on the attachment and it opens up to show Genji, sans mask, and an omnic monk sitting in a snowy village.  Genji looks happy, he looks whole.

Jesse looks at it for a couple more seconds before saving the picture and turning the comm back off.  

He doesn't respond.  He usually doesn't. 

Sleep finally comes, but it's far from restful.

 

* * *

The next three weeks don't help Jesse’s disposition in the slightest.  The guy he's chasing is slippery and somehow manages to stay a step ahead of him.  Whether out of skill or dumb luck, Jesse isn't sure, but it is pissing him off.

Jesse finally catches up to him in the small Arizona town of Black Canyon City.  He grabs the guy at gunpoint outside of a shitty bar but the idiot must be dumb or desperate because he shoots at Jesse, causing a major scene and takes off again.  Jesse chases him out of town into the canyons out to the west.  Gunfire from a poorly maintained gun and shouts from both men echo off the rocks creating a cacophony of sound.

Two final shots from Peacekeeper and the canyon goes quiet again.  Jesse walks over to the body, his hat shading him from the high noon sun.  He sighs and nudges the body with his boot so it’s face up.  The guy was worth $15,000 alive, now he’s only worth $7500.  Oh well, that’ll still get him to Texas, be enough for new supplies and ammo, and maybe even get him an actual motel room with an actual bed for a week or so.  Now he just has to figure out how to get this guy back into town.

Jesse tilts his head back and lets the sun beat on his face while he takes a moment to relax.  Three weeks of following this dirtbag around exhausted him.  Though these days he’s always exhausted.  

Twenty eight million dollars and counting, already building up to be one of the biggest bounties in the United States and probably the world.  Trying to track down criminals and turn them in, while avoiding other bounty hunters looking to collect is getting increasingly harder.

The wind whips up for a second before dying completely.  Jesse instantly goes on alert, hand on Peacekeeper.

“Hello, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.”

Death’s sudden appearances no longer give Jesse a heart attack, but they still make him flinch nonetheless.

“Howdy, partner.  Long time no see.”  Jesse takes out a cigarillo -his last one, just another thing to restock on- and takes a seat on a nearby boulder.  

Death looks down at the body and smiles.  “I’ve been waiting for this one for some time now, thank you.”

“Ain’t no thing.”

Death squats down and does their thing with the body.

“What exactly are ya doin’ there?”

“I am releasing their souls and sending them to the next plane of existence.”

“Next plane of what?”

“The afterlife, as you would call it.”

“Ah got it… I went there, didn’t I?”

“No, I stopped you before you could get there and pulled you back.  If you had reached the next plane I would not have been able to do so.”

“Well shit, thanks for that then.”

“You’re welcome, Jesse Emmanuel McCree.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call me by my full name.  It’s kinda a mouth full and a lil’ weird ta be honest.”

“I thought I was being respectful using your full name.  Do humans not do that?”

“Nah, like I said, it’s weird.  Look, we’re friends, you can call me just McCree or Jesse or Jesse McCree if ya want.  Just drop the middle name at least, please.  Everytime I hear my full name I get flashbacks to Ana getting ready to tear me a new one.”

“We’re... friends?” they ask, confused.

“Well, yea.  Ya saved my hide enough times and given me some pretty good advice over the years.  And yer here ain’t’cha?  Ya could’ve left a long time ago but ya stuck around ta chat.  That’s a friend if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Yer kiddin’?  The second oldest bein’ in creation’s never had a friend before?”

“I’m surprised you remembered that.”

“Well it was a memorable day.”

“That it was.”

Death tilts their head up to the horizon as if watching for something.  “I must go, death does not stop.”

Jesse stubs out his cigarillo and hops off the boulder.  “One more question before ya go.  Am I still on the right path?  Ya know, the one ya said my life was supposed to go down, ‘cuz some days it don’t feel like it.”

“I never said it was the easiest path, just the right one.  But yes, McCree, you are.”

Jesse smiles and tips his hat.  Death disappears like a mirage and leaves Jesse alone with the body.  Jesse looks down at it and kicks it.

“Now, how am I gonna get you out’a here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death: "What are these 'friends' you speak of?"  
> Jesse: "You poor motherfucker."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this is a little late. Completely spaced on uploading it.  
> Anyways, enjoy and maybe let me know what you think.

Of all the days for his devil’s luck to run out.  

Jesse just wanted pick up some supplies before he hit the road again, he didn’t want to get into a firefight in the middle of a busy mall.  But of course he got recognized by three idiots holding one of his wanted posters who didn’t care who got hurt.  As long as they got their money, right?  

Jesse runs and rolls and tries to stay as far away from civilians as he can.  He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt because of him.  Doesn’t need another thing like that on his conscious. 

“There he is!”

Jesse turns around and sees the bounty hunters raise their guns at him.  Only years of training and instincts let him roll out of the way in time.  Not in time.  One bullet goes overhead, another clips his shoulder.  The last one disappears, until he hears someone cry out in pain.  He peaks out from behind the wall he's hiding behind and sees a woman on the ground, crying and clutching her stomach.

That's it.  This ends now.

Jesse reloads Peacekeeper and stands.  Deep breath.  Fade to gray.  Line up the shots.  

Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

The market is finally silent.  Jesse runs over to the woman that got shot without checking on the bounty hunters.  They don't get up, they never do.

The woman looks up at him with fear in her eyes.  She tries to wriggle away from him but Jesse holds her still with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, don't move.  You'll make it worse.  Don't panic, I ain't gonna hurt ya.  Breath with me.”  Jesse takes deep, slow breaths and waits for the woman to match them.  

“There ya go.  What's yer name, sweetheart?”

“A-Anna.”

“Anna, that's a beautiful name.  I knew an Ana once, she was the best woman I ever knew.  Now, I'm going to take a look at yer wound, okay?”

Anna nods so Jesse gently pulls her hands away.  It's bad, really bad.  Johnson back in Blackwatch got shot like this once.  The only reason he survived was because they had some of the best doctors and medical staff on standby.  Jesse doesn't have that any more.  This tiny town is probably lucky to have one surgeon at their hospital.  A hospital that is too far away to be any help.

“I-I’m going to die, aren't I?”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

“P-please, don't leave me.”

“I ain't going nowhere,” Jesse lies.  He will stay as long as he can.  He doesn't hear any sirens yet but that can change at any time.

“I'm scared,” Anna sobs.

“Ain't nothin’ to be scared of.  Believe it or not I've done this dance before and it ain't too bad.  You'll meet someone who's gonna help ya get where ya need to.  They're nice, and they'll take good care of you.  I'll make sure of it, we go way back.”

By some stroke of luck, no police show up.  Jesse holds her hand and talks to her about nothing until her iron grip relaxes and the light behind her eyes fades out.  Jesse sighs and closes her eyes in one last act of respect.  Not even a minute later the world goes still and a familiar pair of black loafers walk into his view.  Jesse looks up and tilts his hat back.  

“Hello, McCree.”

“Howdy.”

“I’m surprised you’re still here.  Usually you’ve taken off by now.”

“Eh, I ain’t in any rush this time.  And she deserved more than dyin’ alone.”

“How kind of you.”

“Ha, yea.  ‘Cuz dyin’ is real kind.”

“McCree, you did not kill her,” Death says, seemingly reading Jesse’s mind.

“Naw but she’s still dead ‘cuz of me.  Her blood is still on my hands.  Jus’ another stain I can’t wash off.”

“You have a lot of blood on your hands, but her’s is not included.”

“They were firin’ at me an’ she got caught in the crossfire.  If I had never been here she would still be kickin’.  You told me I was done killin’ innocents, but they’re still dyin’ cuz’ of me.”

Death sighs.  Even they know Jesse has a point.  They release Anna’s soul before standing back up and looking down at Jesse.  

“Jesse McCree you must not lose-”

“What?  Hope?  That's rich, especially coming from you.”

“Must not lose sight of what's important.  And do not interrupt me again.”

Jesse huffs and waves them off with an annoyed gesture.  “And what's so important?  Getting you yer souls and keepin’ yer business flourishing?”

“No.  Surviving.”

“Hard to when the reasons ta do so keep dwindlin’.”

Death rocks back on their heels and studies Jesse with a careful eye.  “About fourty years ago there was a human that caught my interest.  He was depressed and suicidal to the point where he tried to take his own life.  The doctors were able to save him but started checking in on him frequently because I honestly thought he wouldn’t last much longer.  

“He started going to a therapist and what the therapist said surprised me.  She didn’t wax poetics to him about the beauty of the world and how his friends and family would miss him if he died.  Instead she told him to find a piece of paper and write down just one thing that he loved or wanted to do.  Just one reason to keep going on when he felt like ending it.

“Thanks to that little suggestion he lived another twenty years.”

“One reason huh?  Seems like it shouldn't be that easy.”

“Some things simply are.  Appreciate them when they come by.  Our time here is up, you should get going unless you want someone to collect that bounty of yours.  What is it up to now?”

Sure enough Jesse hears sirens in the distance.  He stands up with a weak laugh and dusts off his hat.  “Thirty five mill as of a week ago, but I have a feelin’ it's gonna go up today unfortunately.”

“That's a solid guess.  I will see you again Jesse McCree, make sure you are still breathing when it happens.”

Jesse waves them off with a half salute and they disappear in a mirage of air.  He gives Anna one last look before walking off into the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter was shorter. I still feel like i should have added more onto it but i dont know what i could have added. The next chapter will be a little longer and im super excited about it, its been planned since almost the beginning of this series.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go my lovelies, enjoy!

Jesse scans the bar as he waits for the waitress to bring him another beer.  The place is a shit hole and the alcohol tastes like watered down piss but it's also the most likely place to get the information he needs.  

Three weeks ago Jesse picked up some chatter talking about a new Deadlock.  If the talk was true, he knew all too well what kind of trouble that could mean so after stopping a robbery at a ramen shop in Japan he hopped on the first shipping freighter he could buy his way onto and headed back to the Southwest.  He spent the next two weeks checking out progressively shittier bars trying to narrow down personnel and locations which brought him to this current bar in Palmdale, California and a very solid lead.

So far no one of interest has come in and Jesse is starting to get annoyed.  He rather be back in his motel room with his decent whiskey.  The only thing that keeps him from getting up and walking out it Reyes’ voice in the back of him mind telling him to finish the job.

Finally after 20 more minutes and another beer two men walk in and saunter around like they own the place.  Jesse knows that's who he's been waiting for because years ago he used to walking around just like that.  The two men sit in the booth behind Jesse and order some drinks.  

It doesn't take long for the alcohol to loosen their tongues and for the info Jesse was hoping for to start flowing.  They talk about a new shipment to a warehouse on the west side of town.  They even mention new recruits and a couple other nuggets of information the makes Jesse's job much easier.  

Happy with the info Jesse closes out his tab and makes his way back to the motel to get ready make Deadlock’s life difficult.  

* * *

When the clock ticks past midnight, Jesse heaves himself off the creaky bed and heads out.  The warehouse is easy enough to find with the full moon high in the sky and not a single cloud to block its light.  Also makes sneaking around a little bit harder but he makes do.

This new Deadlock is sloppy.  They only have one man guarding each door into the warehouse, half of which are nodding off.  Jesse finds an entrance with a guard fast asleep.  He taps on the guard’s shoulder to wake him up only to send him back to sleep with a swift punch to the face.  He zips tie’s the guards hands, shoves a bandana in his mouth, and slinks into the warehouse.  He comes across a few more guards walking around and takes each one of them down with either a very tight sleeper hold or a quick snap of the neck.

It doesn't take long to find a shipment the guys from the bar were talking about.  It’s sitting near some closed bay doors on the main floor, probably from when they unloaded it.  When he opens up the first crate he almost lets out an impressed whistle.  Dozens of military grade assault rifles and even more grenades fill the crate and and the eight other ones just like it.  All together it probably totals about a million dollars in profit.  Jesse grins.  Getting rid of this inventory would put a serious dent in the reformed gang.  

Jesse slips his backpack off his shoulder and takes out the last three pulse bombs Lena gave him way back when.  He’s been saving these for an emergency and it looks like he just found the perfect excuse.  He places them strategically around the crates and sets the delayed timer.

Now, to get the hell out of dodge.

Jesse stands up and turns around only to come face to face with the barrel of a dirty glock.  

“Well I'll be damned, is that really Jesse Mother fucking McCree?  The turncoat himself.”

A shrew looking man behind the gun sneers at Jesse with utter disdain.  Jesse's not surprised, he's gotten the same look when he first met all the blue coats in Overwatch and every time he’s run across a deadlock member over the years.  He grew immune to it over time and now he uses that immunity to throw on his mask of southern hospitality and subtly scan the warehouse for exit routes.

“Well howdy, glad to know my reputation precedes me.  Although I do believe I'm at a disadvantage not knowin’ yer name.”

“All you need to know is that I'm the man that's gonna kill ya and collect that sweet, sweet bounty.”

“Keepin’ me all fer yerself?  I'd be flattered but yer not really my type.  I prefer my men with a little more muscle on ‘em.”

Jesse makes sure not to let it show, but he's starting to panic.  The timer on the pulse bombs is steadily counting down right behind him, his quickest escape route is right behind the shrew, and that grimy gun is too close to his face to even attempt to get out of the way.

“Shut the hell up.  I ain't stupid, I got backup coming right now.  But I guess I still shouldn't take any chances.”  The shrew levels his gun at Jesse and pulls the trigger.

Now, Jesse knows he has the devil's luck.  It never helped him when he was trying to sneak back on base with other agents and avoid Gabe after a late night of drinking.  But when it comes to life and death situations, well….  

Too many years of misuse makes the guy’s gun jam.  Jesse wastes a fraction of a second thanking whatever higher power is looking over him then he's in motion.  He grabs the wrist holding the gun and pulls the guy off balance.  The shrew’s face goes right into Jesse’s metal elbow and the guy crumples. The sounds of heavy footsteps and shouting fill the warehouse so Jesse grabs his bag and runs for the exit.  Two Deadlocks run in through the door and start firing at Jesse.  He skids to stop, cursing in every language he knows, and dives behind some other crates.  As more people fill the open floor of the warehouse and fire at him, Jesse can only hope that these crates aren’t filled with munitions.  

From his position he takes out some Deadlocks running along the catwalks.  He checks his watch quickly and curses again.  Less than 30 seconds until the pulse bombs go off and he can still see them from where he’s kneeling.  The gunfire behind him goes into a lull and he throws a flash bang before he can second guess himself.  Fan the hammer, combat roll, fan the hammer again.  That clears enough shooters on the ground to give him an opening to run for a door again.

Twenty seconds.

In the hallway the first three people get double taps, heart and head.  He flips Peacekeeper around and pistol whips the third person.  The fourth person gets a fist to the stomach then a knee to the face.  

Ten seconds.  

The last person is significantly bigger than everyone else and Jesse freezes for a second in shock.  The hesitation costs him and suddenly he's getting picked up and thrown right back down the hall until he skids to a stop in front of the doorway.  The big bruiser comes barreling towards him and this time Jesse doesn't hesitate.  As soon as the guy’s close enough he kicks up and digs his heel and spur into his more delicate parts.  The bruiser crumples and Jesse shoves him to the left and through the door.

Three.  Two.  One.  

The pulse bombs go off exactly as Lena promised, but the explosion size is a little bigger than Jesse expected and catches the edge of another crate at the edge of the blast radius.  A secondary explosion goes off and rips through the main warehouse floor.  Jesse barely has enough time to roll backwards and out of the way of the flames.

It's over as quickly as it began.  

Jesse slowly uncurls from his spot on the floor then reloads Peacekeeper.  With his gun at the ready, he carefully walks into room and checks for any movement.  He has to hand it to these Deadlocks, at least they knew how to choose a base of operations.  Besides the bay doors and windows being blown out, there's no significant structural damage.

A quick walk through of the area produces no other survivors and no intact stolen weapons.  Jesse breathes a sigh of relief and laughs hollowly.  Goddamn that was way too close of a call.

“Oh good, I’m not too late.”

Jesse definitely does not scream like a little girl as he whips around and fires a bullet at the unknown voice.  Death looks at him, unimpressed, and picks the intact bullet out of the lapel of their suit jacket.

“Really?”

“Really?  Really!  I jus’ got out of a nasty firefight with twenty-somethin’ Deadlocks not even thirty seconds ago and you think sneakin’ up on me like that wouldn’t make me shoot’cha!?”

“... You may have a point.”  Jesse makes an exasperated sound and holsters peacekeeper.

“What didja mean when ya said ya weren’t too late?”  

“Someone has been stealing from me.”

“Stealing what?  Yer souls?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t even realise that was possible.”

“It shouldn’t be, but in the last year there were three other massacres where all the souls had been ripped out of the bodies before I arrived.”

“So what, there’s someone like you out there undercuttin’ yer business?”

“No, there is nothing like me.  Whatever is stealing those souls is an abomination, something that should not have been created.”

“Harsh.”

“But the truth.  Now if you will excuse me Jesse McCree, I would like to collect my souls and I guarantee that explosion did not go unnoticed.”

Sure enough Jesse hears faint sirens slowly getting louder.

“Well then, that's my cue.  Good luck with yer thief.  I would offer my help but I don't know much help I would actually be.”

“Just… be safe.”

The statement surprises Jesse, but he manages to hide his reaction.  With one last look Jesse picks up his singed pack and escapes into the night.

He won't lie, the news of this… soul stealer worries him, a little more than he cares to admit.  But that's a problem for another day, when he's not running away from a very incriminating crime scene.

With no living soul the wiser, he slips into the shadow of the night like a ghost.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooooo i totally didn't just completely forget to upload this chapter like a month ago.......  
> Super sorry about that

Why does his state of being seem to be permanently stuck on ‘exhausted’ these days?  And he doesn’t mean ‘not enough sleep’ exhausted or ‘living on the lam’ exhausted.  It’s deeper than that and no amount of sleep or smoking or drinking seem to help.  It’s no coincidence that the last time he truly felt rested was over five years ago.

The blare of the train whistle startles Jesse out of his thoughts.  Looks like they finally entered Albuquerque city limits.  He leans out to the side and nearly has his hat ripped off by the wind.  The downside of having a more scenic seat instead of a regular commuter one inside the train.

The whistle blows again and Jesse shoulders on his duffle bag that he was sitting on.  The first train crossing is coming up and the train is slowing down which means this is his stop.  As soon as it slows down enough he jumps and uses the momentum to roll away from the tracks.  Jesse stands up with a groan and dusts his clothes off as the train rumbles by.  Eventually it’s just a spec in the distance, and Jesse starts walking again.  First things first, food.

Jesse finds a nice little mom-and-pop diner pretty quickly that serves amazing burgers and even better pie.  Almost reminds him of those little desserts Ana would make every once in a blue moon.  What were those called again?  Maybe he can look that up tonight if he works up the motivation.  He rather get going to Santa Fe but the there's only one more bus tonight and he rather get some rest before being shoved into a sardine can for a couple hours.

Jesse finishes his food before throwing some bills on the table and heading out again.  He finds a decent looking motel pretty quickly that has cheap rooms and allows smoking.  The woman running the front desk barely looks at him as she checks him in which he doesn't mind, just makes this easier and safer for everyone.  The first thing he does when he finally shoulders open the slightly warped door to his room is drop his bag and head for the shower.  That's another downside of catching a lift on the top of a train, plenty of fresh air, but also plenty of dust and bugs to go along with it.  

After cleaning up Jesse pulls out a much needed cigarillo and his flask for later.  He pries open the window and lights the cigarillo.  The first hit of nicotine to his lungs, ironically, feels like a breath of fresh air.  It clears his head and relaxes his muscles until he’s sagging against the window sill in the closest he’ll come to contentment.  Slowly, he breathes out a thin stream of smoke into the night sky and the moon catches his eye.  It reminds him of that night in Dorado with Genji.  They shared some very personal stories that night, and got shit-faced drunk once they got back to base (much to Gabe’s and Angela’s chagrin) but they had walked away closer than ever.  Brothers in every way.

A small smile flits across Jesse’s face before he covers it up with another drag of his cigarillo.  He holds it for as long as he can before exhaling and saying ‘fuck it’.  He walks back over to his bags and digs around for his old comm.  Genji should be happy to hear from him first this time. He pops the battery in and jams the power button down.  As soon as it's booted up he snaps a picture of the night sky.  It looks erie in the picture thanks to the smoke coming off of the cigarillo and washing out some of the buildings and stars.  

_ To: Agent 361- Shimada, G _

_ Almost looks as good as it did that night in Dorado. _

_ [Image Attached] _

Jesse sends the message and switches over the the photo album.  Nostalgia grips him tight tonight as he swipes through the hundreds of pictures he has saved.  Some of them make him smile, like the one Ana sent him on his twenty-fifth birthday of his first day at Overwatch looking like a scrawny looking shit standing next to a proud looking Gabe who’s trying his hardest to not look too happy.  Some of them almost make him laugh, like the one of him and a very young Fareeha playing a very serious game of pretend with Overwatch action figures.  Others rips the hole in his heart even wider, like the one of him, Ana, Reinhardt, Winston, Angela, Gabe, Jack, and Lena in their dress blues at the Human-Omnic peace conference.  This is one of the last times he remembers everyone being happy before the secrets and infighting began.

Jesse finishes off the cigar and stubs the remains out on his metal hand before flicking it out the window.  He disassembles the comm and tosses it into his bag without a second thought and flops down on the bed.  He grabs his flask and doesn’t fall asleep until it’s empty.

***

The next morning Jesse pops a couple of aspirin for the small hangover and repacks his bag.  He’s out the door and checked out before 9am and on his way to the bus depot.  He buys a ticket for the next bus to Santa Fe and is heading north within the hour.

Jesse arrives in the city a little after lunch which gives him plenty of time to walk the rest of the way to his safe house on the east side of town.  It’s a small house a mile or so outside of the city limits that he bought under an alias while we was still in Blackwatch.  Nondescript, closest neighbor is a half mile away, gives him a straight shot into the desert and the mountains beyond that.  To be honest, it’s his favorite safehouse and his most secure which is why he’s going to hole up there for a couple weeks to recharge and hopefully let some of the heat surrounding his name die down.

He finally reaches the safe house, affectionately named ‘Whiskey’, in the early evening and unfortunately the hottest part of the day.  By the time he gets the generator up and running and the solar panels cleaned off he’s sweated through both of his shirts and his hair is plastered to the back of his neck.  Even the mid spring heat of April is unforgiving.

After a cold shower with water fed from an underground well and a dinner consisting of canned soups, he falls into bed and sleeps heavily, this time without the help of any alcohol.

~~~

The next day consists of mostly cleaning and checking the perimeter security systems, syncing it up with his comm since it’s the only piece of tech he has thats advanced enough to do so.  The hard work clears his mind and keeps him so focused he almost misses his comm ringing.

The sound is different than the one that usually goes off with a new message.  This tone means it's coming over the Emergency Channel.  Jesse pulls it out of his pocket and his eyes narrow.  He gets hit with a strong sense of deja vu that he can’t shake.  He ignores the feeling for now and checks the new message.  

It’s not from Genji.  Wary, Jesse taps on it.  The video player pops up and Winston’s face fills the screen.  Jesse listens to the gorilla go on about how overwatch was a family, how it got torn apart, and about how the world needs them back.  When the video finishes a new message pops up.  It's short, only one line.

**_All Agents Recall_ **

**_[Y]/[N]?_ **

First, Jesse is happy the big lug is still doing okay.  He was worried about what Winston was going to do when he heard Overwatch got shut down for good but it looks like he’s getting by just fine.

But then the good feelings fade and are replaced by anger.  Overwatch was not a family by the end, and it got shut down for a reason.  Moles and rats tore the organization apart until the only thing left was a hollow shell of what it once was.  And how does Winston know that same exact thing won't happen again?  What makes him think that things this time won't end the same exact way as last time.

Jesse turns the comm off without answering and storms back to the house.

The world may need Overwatch, but Jesse certainly doesn’t need the world.  He doesn’t owe anyone a damn thing.

~~~   
The next week is quiet.  No more new messages.  No more calls to action.  Jesse finally gets the security system back to working condition and the house cleaned up to livable conditions.  But now he’s out of work to do so he spends the days smoking through his cigarillos at a worrying rate, trying to forget about Winston’s message.

Relief from monotony and he slow descent into madness comes in the form of another message.  This one, thankfully is from Genji.

 

_ New Message [1543 hours] _

_ From: Agent 361- Shimada, G _

_ We need to talk. _

_ Ripcord Bar, Los Angeles _

_ April 20th, 9pm. _

 

Genji didn’t specify what they needed to talk about but Jesse has a pretty good idea of the subject.  

He smiles when he sees where Genji wants them to meet.  Every time they had a mission on the West Coast they flew in and out of Watchpoint LA.  Gabe always celebrated being back in his hometown by going to the shitty dive bar that one of his army buddies owned.  It kinda became a tradition between him and Jesse, and eventually him, Jesse, and Genji to get a drink there after a mission before flying out to the next location.

And April 20th.  That gives him 4 days to get to LA.  Luckily, this safe house comes with some very special transportation that should allow him to get there in about twelve hours, nine if he breaks a few speeding laws.

But this is assuming he actually goes.  He's still got a lot of trouble surrounding his name which means a lot of people looking for him.  Also he's already made up his mind about not joining, there's no way Genji can change his mind.

At the same time, he hasn't seen Genji in person for over five years.  He misses his best friend.  And if Genji is going to try and get him to come back he deserves to hear Jesse say ‘no’ in person.

Jesse sighs and sinks into the couch.  If he heads out first thing tomorrow morning that will give him plenty of time to scout the area before the meeting.  

Looks like he's going to California.   

~~~

The next morning, thirty minutes after the sun has risen, Jesse walks out to the shed next to the house.  Slung over his shoulder is two little bags that carry only the essentials he’ll need for the next couple days.  With a loud creak he pulls the doors of the shed open and walks in with a grin.  It’s been far too long since the last time he got to indulge in this pleasure.  He pulls off a dusty grey sheet off of the large object in the center with a flourish and after he recovers from inhaling too much dust he looks down at his motorcycle with a gleam in his eyes.

The sleek black and silver bike is something he bought when he was younger and more impulsive, but he hasn’t once regretted buying it.  It quickly became one of his most valuable possessions, right behind Peacekeeper, and it was the first thing he moved into this safe house.

Jesse wheels it out and stuffs his bags into the saddlebags on either side.  He locks up the shed then swings his long legs over the chassis.  It takes a couple tries to get the gas moving through the lines again but on the third try it roars to life and settles into a nice even purr.  Jesse safely stores his hat in a saddlebag, slides on his sunglasses, and tears away from the house.

Jesse rides straight for LA, stopping only for gas and lunch.  He finally arrives just as the sun is setting, painting a beautiful picture over the Pacific Ocean.  When the show ends he looks for the cheapest hotel he can find and sets up shop for the next couple days.

~~~

Four days later Jesse walks into the Ripcord Bar at 9:13pm.  He looks around the crowded room before he finally spots the back of a familiar looking metal head sitting at a table with a glass of whiskey perched near the edge.  

He flicks one of Genji’s metal antenna-ears as he walks up and snaches the whiskey up before it can be rescinded, sliding into the other side of the booth.

“And hello to you too,” Genji says, slightly peeved.  Jesse raises his glass with a completely straight face.  They manage the stare down for a couple more seconds before they both crack.  Smiles appear on their faces and the last five years suddenly seem much shorter than they were.

“It's good to see you Jesse.”

“You too, ya look better.”

“Thank you.  I wish I could say the same but honestly you look terrible.”

“Yea rub it in, you timeless metal bastard,” Jesse grumbles.  Genji laughs, then surprises Jesse by removing his mask.  He can count on one hand the number of times Genji took his mask off in front of anyone.  He takes a few deep breaths and stifles a cough.  Jesse reaches a hand out to help but Genji waves him off.  

“I'm fine, I'm fine.”  His breaths eventually even out and Genji finally takes a sip of the drink in front of him.

“So I take it that Nepal was good for ya?”

“Yes, it was.  I learned much from the monks there, especially Zenyatta.”

“Is that the one omnic that kept popping up in those pics ya sent?  The one with the nine lights?”

“One and the same,” Genji says with a small smile.  “He helped me become at peace with this body and let go of much pain and anger that I did not realize I was still holding on to.”

“Sounds like a real smart guy.”

“Yes.  I think the only thing he is better at are his practical jokes and pranks.”

Jesse pauses, “Wait, what?  We’re still talkin’ ‘bout the monk here, right?”

Genji laughs.  “I had the same thought the first time he pulled a prank on me.  I walked around for three days before I realized I had four different pachimari sprays on my back.  Oh my god you should have seen the other monks reactions when they came back from a supply run in the village and found a yak in their personal rooms.”

“How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Turns out yaks are strangely attracted to bright green lights,” he says with a mischievous smile.

Genji tells Jesse about a couple more pranks he and Zenyatta pulled, each one a little less believable than the last.  Jesse can't remember the last time he laughed this much or was just this happy in general.

But eventually the laughs die down, and the tone in the air shifts to something much more serious.

“You got the message as well, right?” Genji asks.

Jesse shifts in his seat.  “Yeah.”

“What do you think?”

Jesse sighs and looks across the bar.  He knew this conversation was inevitable and that they were going to have to discuss it.  But that doesn’t make it any easier.

“I think Winston’s got his heart in the right place, but he’s naive to think that it won’t end the same way as last time.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind then,” Genji says with an odd lilt.  Jesse looks back at him and studies his face.  All that time wearing a mask has ruined his poker face.

“But you haven’t.”  Genji sighs and nods.  “Dammit Genj do you not remember what it was like those last couple years?  The whole thing was a ticking time bomb full of lies, rats.  Overwatch threw us under the bus as soon as they fucked up.  What makes you think they won’t do the same thing again!”

Genji is silent as he stares Jesse down, waiting for him to calm his temper.  That’s when Jesse realises just how much his friend has changed.  The old Genji would have jumped at the chance for a fight.

“I also remember the earlier years,” Genji starts.  “I remember the organization that gave hope to people, that gave me the best friend I could have ever asked for, that gave me a new purpose and a second chance.”

Jesse just takes another sip of his drink in response.

“Maybe Overwatch needs that same second chance.  You’ve seen what’s happening out there, the conflicts in Russia, the rising tension in London, the riots in Brazil, Talon.  Overwatch could help.”

“In my experience, the world don’t give a damn if ya help it or not.”

“True, but that is never why we fought.  We fought because we were looking for redemption.”

“I was just looking to get out of jail,” Jesse snarks.

“Jesse,” Genji says in a very exasperated tone.

“Okay okay, sorry.  Yer right.  At first I was jus’ tryin’ to avoid the slammer but I guess somewhere along the way it did change to somthin’ less… selfish.”

Genji takes a deep breath, hesitating and stalling for some reason.  “I… I am thinking that maybe… my brother can find that same redemption with them.”

Jesse chokes on his drink.

“Wait, the same brother that sliced ya into ribbons and left ya to die?  That brother!?”

“Well considering I only have one brother, yes.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on.  Back up.  Last time I saw ya, you said ya wanted to kill him.  Slowly.  Until he felt all the pain he dealt on ya.”

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?”

“I mean, yea, but that's a pretty big change in opinion.”

“Peace with my body was not the only thing I found with Zenyatta.  Once I had let go of my anger and hurt I was able to look on my past with a new lens.  The stories I told you were not very objective and painted my brother in a harsher light than he deserved.”

“Genj he-”

“He attacked me on the orders of the clan elders.  Elders who had brainwashed and manipulated him into complete obedience no matter the cost.”

“And how do ya know that he ain't still following their orders?  He could try and kill ya again as soon as ya show yer face.”

“I know he will not because he is no longer a part of the clan.  Do you remember that solo mission I went on about two years after I had joined?”  Jesse nods.  “I went back to Hanamura, looking to kill Hanzo and the rest of the clan leaders.  But when I got there I found a crumbling empire tearing itself apart in a power struggle.  I learned that the elders had been dead for years, murdered by Hanzo before he abandoned our family never to be seen again.  The last proof I needed was the fact that the clan sent assassins after him to bring back his head.  None have been successful yet they still try to this day.”

“Well shit.  That makes what… ten years of lookin’ over yer shoulder and tryin’ not t’get offed?  Impressive.”

“My brother always was skilled, and stubborn.  He would never let some second rate assassin get the better of him.”

Both men chuckle and let it fade into silence.  Jesse listens to the sounds of the bar, absorbing this new information about the infamous brother.  He supposes he shouldn't be so harsh on Hanzo, he's had plenty of experience with indoctrination and doing fucked up shit just because someone you thought was your family told you to.  But at the same time it's hard to let go of all the anger he's felt on Genji's behalf just like that.  

“I still don't like it, partner.”

“I know, but it's something I need to do.  I know my brother, and I know that he is still hurting from his sin.  I have a feeling that this self imposed exile is his attempt at penance and that it is hurting him more than anything else.  We both need this second chance.”

Jesse sighs.  “Well I ain't gonna stop ya if ya really feel that way.  But how are ya gonna find him?  You said it yer self, the man's a ghost.”

“That is true, but also like I said, he is stubborn and likes his routines.  I know exactly where he will be in a month.”

“So yer jus’ gonna go up to him then a say ‘Surprise!  I ain’t dead!’?”

“If he doesn’t kill me first.”

Jesse is about to go off on Genji until he sees the teasing smirk on his face.  He groans and curses Genji under his breath.  Genji just laughs.

“Are you sure there is nothing I can say to change your mind?” Genji asks when his laughter dies down.

“Naw, that chapter of my life is closed, I can’t go back.”

“Alright, I had to try one more time.”  Genji finishes his drink and stands.

“Does that mean yer heading out?”

“Yes, it is almost closing time and there are some things I need to take care of before I go confront my brother.”

“Ya mean like write and practice an over dramatic speech full of special effects?”

“That was one time and we were drunk!”

“It was more like five and you were only drunk for less than half of ‘em.”

“I- listen- damn you cowboy.”

Jesse stands as well and pulls Genji into a tight hug.  Neither of them really want to pull away at the end.

“Are you heading out as well?  I’ll walk out with you.”

“Nah, I’m gonna stay for one more drink.  For Gabe.”

Genji nods, “Give him a toast for me.”

“Will do, see ya around partner.”

Genji walks out and Jesse orders two more shots of whiskey.  He downs the first one but lets the other one sit untouched.  Thinking about all of those old memories probably isn’t a good idea but hell, it’s what Gabe deserves.

Suddenly, the ambient noise of the room fades a bit and Jesse sighs.  In the blink of an eye, the space on the other side of the table is occupied by Death.

“If ya don’t mind, I’m tryin’ ta reminise.”

“Why did you not go with him?  Why are you not going at all?”

“‘Cuz I’m tired.  And I don’t wanna.”

“But you need to go back, Jesse McCree.”

“I don’t need ta do anythin’!”  Jesse slams down his glass on the table and looks Death straight in the eye.  “I don’t owe them anythin’ an’ I ain’t fixin’ to go back to the organization that killed my friends!  Okay?  I don’t care about any damn visions anymore or any damn path.  They’re all bloody an’ lonely an’ I rather make my own way an’ not take order from anyone anymore.  So no, I ain’t goin’ anywhere,”

Death is quiet for a long minute.  Finally they stand up and straighten out their suit jacket.  “I hope you know what you are doing, Jesse McCree.  May we meet again.”

They disappear between one moment and the next.  Noise floods back into the space and Jesse sighs.

He knows what he’s doing.

He knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an apology for making you guys wait so long for this last chapter I want to share the playlist I made that goes along with this series. You can listen to it on spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/imgettingbi/playlist/5VK3tcwOeyipNXYCtj8oQB)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this story, there will be one more part to this series but that won't be out for a while as i need to figure out exctly what I'm doing plot wise and there are some other fics I want to finish first.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at cryptidhanzoshimada


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